


The Flossy, Flossy Pajama Party

by GlitterDwarf



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-23
Updated: 2011-10-23
Packaged: 2017-10-24 21:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterDwarf/pseuds/GlitterDwarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the leslie_ben ficathon. Prompt by stillscape: "During or post 4.02. Pajama party at Entertainment 720. Ben wears his Star Wars pajamas and works on spreadsheets while Tom, Jean-Ralphio, Detlef Schrempf and Roy Hibbert play truth or dare with all those girls who get paid $100k to read iPads. Bonus points for Andy and April coming over at some point (or anyone else, really), the imbibing of Snake Juice, or Leslie bringing waffles first thing in the morning."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Flossy, Flossy Pajama Party

Somewhere in the close-distance, shenanigans are ensuing.

“I can’t believe that you don’t want to play ‘Truth or Dare’ with these fine-ass ladies, Detlef Schremph,” Tom is saying as he pretends to not be touching the fringe on Jean-Ralphio’s cowboy-boot-slipper hybrid of everything terrible. Detlef shrugs as he runs one of the many E720 schwag basketballs through his hands.

“I just find the idea of playing ‘Truth or Dare’ inherently degrading and misogynistic towards these lovely young women whose personalities go much further than their looks.”

“ _You say that it’s degrading but I dis-a-gree! ‘Misogynistic’ is a word that I don’t use free-ly_ ever,” Jean-Ralphio raps, again ending on the not-rhyme. Tom rolls his eyes and pushes his friend to the ground, where they end up laughing and pushing their various fringe-covered clothing items in each other’s faces. This only makes each of them more lost, as they have also picked up on the “new thing” that is sheer fabric, which means that they have quickly become a tangle of blind, fringe-covered wackness. It’s really kind of awful.

For himself, Ben is not very amused at the “Ninth Official E720 Pajama Party,” especially because the biggest difference is that everybody is wearing silky bed things, which means elaborately embroidered, plush pajama sets for the men (that are, apparently, sometimes sheer?) and small slips of fabric that Ben assumes are supposed to be both modest and immodest at the same time for the girls. Of course, the biggest point of modesty that their “pajamas” have going for them is that Tom and Jean-Ralphio’s face are on what little fabric there is, making Ben not want to look at their bodies at all (okay, significantly less).

Not that the girls are particularly wanting to look at _him_. It’s their loss, really. The coolest guys wear Star Wars pajamas into their adulthood, and Ben is willing to bet on that kind of assertion.

As the owners roll around on the ground (which is what Ben _thinks_ is going on?) Ben is busy trying to stave off the company’s inevitable financial ruin. This is a task that is incredibly difficult to perform when the party button is permanently on, but _somebody_ has to do it, and since Ben has nothing better to do with his time…

Nobody else is laughing, though, besides Tom and Jean-Ralphio. The girls look bored with their iPads, and Detlef and Roy Hibbert look like they are falling asleep on their basketballs.

“Uh,” Ben starts intelligently in the general direction of the others. “I thought that this was a Snake Juice night?”

“We let _them_ drink,” Roy explains, not even having to gesture for his point to get across. “Eventually they pass out on top of each other and we get to go home and be with our families.”

Ben nods, making a mental note to himself to cut out the budget for any more extraneous slumber parties.

“ _You_ should probably drink, though,” Detlef points out, throwing his basketball in Ben’s direction. Ben tries to catch it but the ball fumbles and rolls right back to Detlef who, to his credit, pretends like that wasn’t pathetic.

“Why do you say that?”

“You don’t have a family to go home to.”

Ben wrinkles his forehead and chuckles slowly, trying to not let the words repeat too many times in his own head.

“How do you know that?”

“Because you’re here in Star Wars pajamas.”

This seems fair enough.

And, since Ben has nothing to lose and because he might as well party while the party button is stuck, and for one big reason that he would rather not think about right now, he downs half of a bottle before anybody can stop him.

\--

Ben awakes with whipped cream.

More specifically, with whipped cream on top of a waffle, being fed to him by Leslie Knope. It takes him a moment to realize where he is, but even this seems entirely nonsensical (not surprising, because every surface in this room to lay down on is, well, crazy).

“Fun night?” she asks, and smiles, making Ben’s chest ache just a little bit (a lot).

“How- why-“ he croaks out, wondering why God would ever invent light and call it “good.”

“You drunk dialed me,” she explains, dolloping more whipped cream onto a giant piece of waffle and stuffing it in his mouth before he can say another word. “Fifty times. It was impressive, really, but I don’t think that my voice mail can recover.”

Ben is quiet as he chews, looking around. The entire room looks askew, with various items strewn about the floor. These items include: approximately fifty diamonds; marshmallow Peeps in various colors; an entire collection of Marmaduke comics cut out into heart-shapes; and April and Andy passed out on top of a Twister board, their bodies linked up in what would, without context, look extremely lewd and uncomfortable.

“Did I say anything interesting?” he asks finally, looking in the general direction of the waffle.

“I didn’t know that you love me,” Leslie answers him, quietly.

There is a beat of silence, and Ben figures that he had better answer the waffle (Leslie). After all, he has nothing to lose in this situation, since he hasn’t had her in awhile, and he is wearing Star Wars pajamas, and he is pretty sure that he is lying on a pack of socks (which reminds him: he needs more socks, even though they are kind of a luxury). Besides, any dignity that he had was lost the minute he decided that the pretty, nice, passionate blond lady was more important than regulations and rules and anything, really.

“You just make sense,” he answers to Leslie (the waffle). She leans down with a smile, obviously to kiss his forehead (which is probably sweaty). And Ben, in the biggest moment of bravery in a long time, tilts his head back to meet her lips with his own.


End file.
